


S.U.H

by soloveitchik



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Explicit Language, M/M, Teenage Drama, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25594546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soloveitchik/pseuds/soloveitchik
Summary: i am not going to apologize for what I’ve done anyway.hey, pierrot?
Relationships: Frank Iero & Gerard Way, Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	1. His name is Pierrot

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [S.U.H](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/658333) by Великое Возможно. 



> Here’s what was used in this fanfic:
> 
> Poems Red Mass and Song Of The Gallows from Albert Giraud’s “Pierrot Lunaire”  
> Spleen by Afanasy Fet  
> The White Stripes — We’re Going To Be Friends   
> Gerard’s lullaby – Scorpions - Born To Touch Your Feelings  
> Frank’s lullaby – Scorpions - Miracle  
> My Chemical Romance - I'm not Okay  
> My Chemical Romance - The World is Ugly  
> “There’s a messy sea in front of me“ - a quote from Matsuo Monroe’s “Teach me how to die“  
> Placebo - Pierrot the Clown  
> “Just hold me tight when I cry in your arms“ - taken from an english girl’s twitter  
> Egypt Central - White Rabbit  
> James Blunt - Goodbye My Lover  
> This is my last work on ficbook.net. Not because something is bad, but because this really ends here. I want to thank you because I have the best readers. I love every single one of you.
> 
> looklooklook what we have here http://ficbook.net/readfic/2196124 (link to a fanfic)  
> http://ficbook.net/readfic/2041407 (link to a fanfic)
> 
> * http://ficbook.net/readfic/2345449 (link to a fanfic)  
> more, more pretty things!  
> http://ficbook.net/readfic/2493918 (link to a fanfic)  
> very cool fanart from the loyal reader!  
> * http://cs629101.vk.me/v629101730/4b67/YL9-loOxVZI.jpg (fanart)  
> ! https://pp.vk.me/c627120/v627120238/469e/XU3Q0PlEYXo.jpg (fanart)  
> https://pp.vk.me/c629130/v629130072/2e3b9/J_GiwXA1-vU.jpg (fanart)  
> ♥ https://vk.com/feed?w=wall-71793846_22239 (fanart)  
> ! https://pp.vk.me/c621925/v621925743/163e7/hspkGwDLoPc.jpg (fanart)
> 
> translator’s note:  
> my love for this ff is undying, my respect for the author is infinite. this is my attempt to show russian killjoy legacy to the rest of the world lol  
> to be honest i was sure that the author won’t answer to me but! they did! and they gave me a permission! and! i had a chance to tell them in person how effing much i admire them!  
> the chapters’ names may seem a bit weird. they are originally written in english but sometimes they are grammatically incorrect. although i thought it wouldn’t be appropriate to change them. let’s keep the author’s orthography. but when i feel like it i will write an alternative name of the chapter after the original one.   
> oh and btw if you ever want to become maybe............. an editor............. i will love you forever........................ but if you could correct any of the mistakes i’m gonna make......... you are still very welcome///// waiting for any messages/////  
> there will also be illustrations to the chapters. they are made by the FABULOUS artist Hide Yoko! she gave me a permission to post her art!
> 
> here is where she posts her art!!!   
> https://www.instagram.com/hideyoko.art/  
> https://vk.com/public167167704
> 
> aaand she also takes commisions!!
> 
> and here's a link to the whole album of the illustrations: https://vk.com/album-167167704_269482488

“You never think about us! Sometimes I just don’t know why I married you, Mr. Iero!”

“God damn it, I’m working like a dog every day to earn us a living, and you only complain in return!”

“Exactly! You think about your work more than you think about us!”

“Don’t you start on that!”

“Don’t you shut me out! When was the last time you talked to your son? Do you even know what’s going on in his life? What if he started smoking because of the lack of his father’s attention?”

“I already have started,” Frank nearly blurted out, taking a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket when the door slammed behind his back, but he stopped himself. He loved his parents. Man, he really did, but these everyday scenes became unbearable. The morning used to start with them venting everything that they accumulated overnight on each other, and in the evening they were coming clean with everything they haven’t said in the morning. And it always was coming down to one thing: around 11 PM mom was shutting herself down in the bedroom on the second floor and crying her eyes out, and dad was lying on the small sofa in the living room with and sighing, and they both were thinking over the things that they’re going to tell each other the next day. And when there was nothing left to say, they were sniping at Frank. He loved them. Man, he really loved them, but he was looking forward to their divorce.

Frank took the first drag and looked around. He has been living in this city for two weeks now and he hasn’t seen anything further the street his house was on yet, but he already totally hated it. Because he never wanted to leave his homeland, his beloved and dearest New Jersey, where he was familiar with every alley and every trash can. Because he couldn’t give a toss about this damn Atlanta with its noise, sour looks of the passers-by, and the new school. Because his parents were too selfish and they ruined his life, they took him away from the land he loved just because some kind of a family therapist claimed that the change of the scenery can help to establish happy domesticity. But nothing was established. Loud scenes, broken dishes, eyes red from crying, a miserable son.

[link](https://vk.com/photo-167167704_457239627)

Frank threw the cigarette butt away, got on the board, and headed towards the Westlake High School, which should have become his second home for a whole year.

For the first time, he found himself further than thirty feet away from the house. Passing down the streets of the new city, he couldn’t help but compare it to his home and curse the state of Georgia for the umpteenth time. He already didn’t like it there. The streets were too clean, people too dull, and the building of the school, where he had arrived in ten minutes, too different from the one he’s used to.

Westlake High School was one of the best schools in Atlanta, that’s why they sent Frank here. But looking at all those boys in the snapback caps, girls in miniskirts, and the boom box right in the middle of the schoolyard that was ready explode from the powerful hip-hop, it wasn’t easy to believe that all of Atlanta’s prodigies study here. Nervously pulling up the strap of his bag, Frank pressed his skateboard to his hip and headed to the entrance under the curious stares. He had to show up at the principal’s office before classes start.

The second he walked through the door of the new school, he heard the loud pop, shrieking girls, and hollow noise of laughter and whistling from the outside. He then looked behind and saw two swearing high-school girls, from head to toe covered in something yellow and sticky, fly into the school at a crazy speed. Making the same loud and indecent noise, they hid behind the door of the ladies’ room, slamming it very hard, and people from the outside were still laughing. “They’re all psychos here,” thought Frank, and nervously looking around, he went right down the hall in search of the principal’s office.

Apparently, the school of psychos was run by the short man, not young, but not old yet, wearing a terracotta suit. He met Frank while sitting in his leather chair and looking through papers, with glasses on the bridge of his nose and black scruffy hair. When he saw someone came in, he politely put everything away and smiled graciously, suggesting that he would take a sit with a gesture.

“So, Mr. Iero, you come from New Jersey, right?” he said quite friendly, opening Frank’s file.

“Yes, sir,” Frank answered with the same politeness.

“Do you like it here?”

“Yes, sir,” totally lied Frank.

“You have a really good school record. Simply excellent,” said the principal, smile growing wider.

“Yes. I want to apply to a medical college.”

“Great! We need students like you.”

With the same wide smile, the principal reached into his bureau and drew a pile of papers and a lot of colorful files out of it. Frank swallowed and glanced at the principal’s table. The nameplate read that this weird funny man’s name was Mr. Goldman.

“Here! Found it!” cheerfully proclaimed Mr. Goldman, picking a sheet of paper from the pile. “Your schedule, Mr. Iero. Try not to get lost in the classrooms,” he giggled joyously.

“Yes, sir.”

“I hope, Mr. Iero, we are not going to have any problems,” the principal’s face instantly became serious, he propped his glasses on his nose with a finger, and now there wasn’t a trace of the funny man wearing a funny suit. “Our school has a Charter that should be upheld by every student. You are no exclusion. You seem to be a pleasant enough young man, please, don’t ruin this impression.”

Frank was getting a little anxious.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Mr. Goldman took on the guise of the funniest and merriest person Frank has ever seen back, and his glasses dropped on the bridge of his nose again. “I’m very glad we had an understanding. You can go, the classes are starting soon. Goodbye, Mr. Iero.”

“Yes, sir, thank you.”

Frank rose to his feet and walked out of the principal’s office. He liked this man. He was quite funny and kind, but strict and serious when it is required. It was three minutes before the bell.

However, Frank managed to find the classroom only four and a half minutes later, and that’s why when he shyly knocked in the door and walked in on stiff feet, thirty-five pairs of eyes were staring at him. And the thirty-sixth pair that belonged to the teacher who wasn’t very happy about him.

“Do you really think that getting late for the very first lesson here is the best way to establish yourself, Mr. EE-ero?” her voice was gritty, with an unpleasant tone of disgust.

“Actually, it’s EYE-ero,” Frank corrected her timidly, but the teacher ruthlessly cut him off, while he was mid-sentence.

“And anyway, Mr. EE-ero, why are you late?”8/

God alone knows how much effort Frank put to fight the temptation to take his board from the bag and punch that arrogant hag.

“It took me some time to find the classroom,” he hissed between gritted teeth and squeezing fists in the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

Everyone chuckled.

“Well, then I will give you a map. Sit down.”

“Thank you very much!” almost said Frank, but he held back.

In the class, there were a lot of empty seats, but the looks of other students were making it very clear that Frank wasn’t very welcome. That’s why he had to sit on the single lonely chair in the back of the class right next to the wall. “Fucking jerks,” Frank thought when he looked at the satisfied faces of his new classmates, and the memories of his old friends, so kind and funny, that have been left in New Jersey slipped into his head, making his heart squeeze from the unbearable sadness. He shouldn’t have sat there on this chair, alone, at the back of the class! He should have been taking notes after Dr. Byde, sitting behind his old painted desk, and then, after the lessons, he should’ve been riding to the skateboard park racing the dearest people he had. But all nostalgic thoughts had to be interrupted because the teacher began explaining the topic, and Frank diligently began writing down every word because he needed the highest scores in order to go to the university.

That’s how two first lessons went by. Frank scribbled, memorized, and tried his best ignoring the fact that his classmates were constantly staring at him. He was very angry and he wanted to run back to his dusty New Jersey so bad, that honestly, he couldn’t help but begin thinking everyone here in Westlake High was completely insane, and when a bright-orange ball flew in through the window and shattered the glass, he became convinced they all were psychos here.

Four lessons later, Frank felt his stomach has stuck to his back, and although he was still disoriented in that huge school, he went looking for the cafeteria. It was quite crowded here, that is why after standing a few long minutes in the line he finally bought a tiny kipfel with cottage cheese and a juice pack and headed towards the little empty table near the window. And the second he landed his butt on the chair, a piece of oatmeal goop flew just above him, a couple of inches away from his head. A piece of cereal. Like, the flying cereal, you know. Someone shouted behind him, and an impressive piece of the cereal smashed into the wall with a loud squish and then slowly dripped into an ugly puddle. “Psychos, fucking psychos!” thought Frank, grabbing his lunch and running away from the cafeteria with, you know, the flying oatmeal!

[link](https://vk.com/photo-167167704_457239618)

Barely sitting through the last two lessons, which he wanted to escape so much, Frank was so happy going outside and taking a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket. He really wanted to go home.

Once the tip of his cigarette was lit, he heard a bit gruff voice of a girl from behind.

“You got a light?”

Frank turned around and saw his new classmate standing in front of him. She was a diminutive brunette with her hair dyed black, and she wore a really short skirt.

“Yeah, here,” he handed her a lighter and took a first drag.

“Thanks, Frank,” she said, returning a lighter and sweetly taking a puff too.

Frank looked at her again. Alexa, Frank thought that’s her name was, was quite a nice girl, as nice as a girl in big heavy military boots with a cigarette in her hand can be.

“You are Alexa, right?” asked Frank to break the silence.

“Yeah,” the girl shook her head. “What you think? Do you like it here?”

“No,” Frank said honestly. “You all are psychos here. I want to go home.”

Alexa shook the ashes off to the ground.

“And where are you from?”

“I’m from New Jersey.”

“And why psychos?” she laughed meekly, making a sly face.

Suddenly, Iero became overwhelmed by a wave of confused resentment.

“Because this morning I saw two yellow sticky girls running into the restroom, because a big orange ball broke a window in the hall, because I was nearly killed by an oatmeal missile, that’s why!” he told off, throwing a cigarette into the puddle and putting his hands in his pockets.

This time, Alexa glinted excitedly with loud laughter, clutching her stomach and leaving Frank confused, well, because the flying oatmeal is so fucking hilarious!

“That’s just a normal reaction for all newcomers,” she said, wiping the tears of laughter. “This is terribly funny,” she laughed again.

“Really? And how often do you throw oatmeal at each other?”

A gaggle of boys passed by, and Frank felt a weight of the hostile gazes and grins with his whole body.

“No, not really,” said Alexa. “And it’s not us. It’s Pierrot.”

“Pierrot?” Frank repeated, baffled.

“Yes, Pierrot,” the girl said softly. “Wacky Pierrot.”

“Who in the hell’s that?”

Alexa smiled again, a hint of hostility showed on her young face.

“Well, he’s the real freak. That was his job with the broken window, and a bomb with the yellow paint too, and that’s him who is throwing the oatmeal. He’s crazy. And we call him Pierrot because he reminds of a wacky pale-faced doll. I’m sure you’ll meet him. He’s in our year.”

“Now we’re going to meet some weird Pantaloon’s puppet,” Frank said, looking tired, then he turned around and headed home, where another load of scenes and homework have been waiting for him.


	2. Send to fuck (alt title - Screwed)

“Look at you; you can’t even make a proper coffee, it’s impossible to think about family with you! You are not able to take care of your husband!”

“What? How dare you! If you ever pitied me, I wouldn’t cry a whole night through in the bedroom, I’d sleep well, and the coffee would taste good!”

“Mom, dad…”

“Well, it’s not my fault that you like sobbing in the pillow and feeling sorry for yourself!”

“Mommy…”

“You are always acting like that! You just enjoy making me lose my temper! Unsympathetic bastard!”

“Dad, if you could give me some money to buy myself a breakfast…”

“And you are a hysteric, and all you do is look for a shoulder to cry on about how miserable and sad you are!”

“I think I’d better go…”

“Don’t you dare saying this! I wasted my youth on you, I gave you my life, I gave you all!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll steal something for breakfast…”

“Oh God, so what? Why do you say it like I owe you something for it? Nobody dragged you down the aisle involuntarily. I gave you both my youth and life too!”

“And for lunch I’ll find something in a trash can…”

“Asshole!”

“Bitch!”

“Oh my God!”

Frank slammed the door, but his parents wouldn’t notice it as they were busy with insulting each other. It’s amazing how a tiny cup of shitty coffee can become a reason of a huge argument.

Frank’s mood couldn’t be worse. Firstly, when he woke up this morning, he discovered that the clothes he has prepared for laundry was still dirty, because mom has forgotten about him when she started arguing with father. That’s why now he is wearing jeans with filthy knees and milk-stained t-shirt and looking like a real piglet. And secondly, mom was so busy screaming at dad that she forgot children are basically supposed to have breakfast, and dad didn’t even think about giving him a bit of cash so he could buy something in the cafeteria. Yeah, it was a shitty morning.

The classes were starting soon, so Frank grabbed his board, jumped on it and was almost ready to go, when suddenly the belt of his bag cracked and everything that was inside fell out to the ground. As he was looking at the pencil that was peacefully rolling towards the bushes, Frank loudly cursed and violently kicked the science textbook.

"For the God’s sake, why can't all of this just stop existing?!"

Crawling along the cold asphalt and collecting textbooks and notebooks, Frank realized that he was definitely late for the first lesson, and now this old woman will have another reason to mock him. And when he got up and discovered that he had torn his shirt in the bushes, he officially put this morning on the list of the lamest mornings in the history of mankind, and then he jumped on the board and rushed off to school.

Being ten minutes late, Frank made his way to the desk at the end of the class under the teacher’s disapproving gaze and nasty grins of the classmates. He opened the paragraph and zealously began to absorb everything that the teacher said quickly pulling out a textbook with a notebook on his desk. He has been an excellent pupil all his life. Ever since Frank was a child, his parents kept telling him about the importance of the good education, and they have chosen him a university in New York when he was only in the fifth grade; “there is a high level of teaching, every teacher is a Doctor of Philosophy, the best medics study there” – that’s what father was never tired of saying. And Frank honestly has been working all these years in order to pass all the exams, get the highest scores, enter that uni in New York and become the most qualified dentist of all the most qualified dentists that ever existed.

Four classes have passed at such pace. Frank was listening carefully, writing everything down and quietly rubbing his empty stomach, which nevertheless was growling so loud that it created an echo in the silence of the class. On the fourth break Frank met his new acquaintance from yesterday, Alexa, and for some reason Frank felt something unpleasant, so he wanted to leave. But he didn’t do that.

“So, how’s the test?” she asked, sounding amused in some way, with her voice of a young smoker. “Nailed it, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, nailed it,” answered Frank, as if he was talking to the wall and not to the girl.

“I didn’t. I don’t know a damn,” she let out some kind of a chuckle. “Straight A’s, huh?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re a nerd?” she sneered.

“No, I just get A’s,” Frank hissed between gritted teeth.

“Chill, man,” Alexa snorted.

Frank felt uncomfortable. He didn’t like her; he didn’t like her at all, and that’s why he didn’t want to argue with her, it was an unpleasant feeling, even a creepy one. After all, he was a newbie, he didn’t have to be rude to anyone.

“Okay,” he tried to soften his voice, “it’s science now, isn’t it?”

“Yup. A combined class.”

“It’s not a school, it’s a whole mansion. Where’s that classroom?”

“Ugh, you do need the map,” she smiled at him. “It’s on the fifth floor. Let’s go, I’ll show you.”

Alexa lifted her bag from the floor, and pulled Frank’s sleeve. She headed to the stairs, making her way through the crowd of hasty students.

“And what is a combined class?” Frank asked, panting and trying not to get lost in the crowd.

“Don’t you know? Didn’t you have that in your previous school?” asked Alexa, turning her head back for a second.

“Nah, I didn’t.”

She quickly ran up the stairs to the fifth floor, and only when they were standing in front of the needed classroom, she threw her bag on the windowsill and answered him.

“A combined class is when a classroom is getting stuffed with two groups of students of the same year. We always have combined science, P.E. and history.”

“Ah,” murmured Frank. “Is that convenient or what?”

“It’s fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yup. The more the merrier, right? Besides, Pierrot is always pulling something. Psycho. God, I wanna smoke.”

“Pierrot?”

“Yeah, oh, look, the class is open, let’s go.”

Alexa, all frisky, jumped off the windowsill and waltzed in with the rest of the kids, leaving Frank all alone. But he was okay with that.

The bell has rung. The last student has come into the classroom, and Frank had to leave the window and follow him. When Frank came in, he was amazed by the size of the auditorium. He has never had such a huge classroom bйack in his previous school. Two groups of students could easily fit in that one.

Having hard experience, he wasn’t even trying to sit with anyone and just headed straight to the empty desk at the back of the class. And while it was fine in the usual classroom, now it was terribly inconvenient. How’s he supposed to hear anything? But he had nothing to do with that.

Sort of getting settled, Frank looked around the room. That girl with long black hair, wearing it in two pigtails, was nice. With her short plaid skirt and a bright red lipstick, she looked cute and sassy at the same time.

Staring at her, Frank didn’t even notice someone who walked in the auditorium, and everyone became silent. The Beautiful Girl was sitting quiet too; she turned her head to the door, and Frank also turned around to look at whatever caught everyone’s attention.

Right by the door there was a boy. He was squeezing the strap of his bag, while everyone looked at him with some kind of an evil judgment. Clumsily shaking his long black hair off his face, he took a tiny, very shy step forwards, and someone from the back row started chanting:

_The scrawny lover_

_With a long neck_

_W_ _ill be_

_His last mistress!_

[link](https://vk.com/photo-167167704_457239619)

And Frank didn’t understand why, but every single person started laughing, even his Beautiful Girl was glinting with loud laughter, what made her no longer beautiful in Frank’s eyes. He knew for sure they all were laughing at that guy, but he couldn’t understand why.

The boy angrily looked around the laughing crowd and headed towards the desks to take a seat, but kids were putting bags and legs on the nearby seats, or even pushing the chairs down. Nobody wanted to sit near him.

He went around every seat, and finally got to Frank’s place, looking as if he was asking a permission to sit there. Now, when he was standing so close, Frank could see him better, and his first thought was “this bag must be so heavy it’s gonna break his shoulder”. He was so weird, so… slender, fragile, with a glossy fever burning in hazel eyes, with black, terribly messy hair and amazingly thin fingers.

He was odd, and Frank was staring at him until he questioningly raised an eyebrow and coughed a little, as if he was trying to draw Frank’s attention.

Frank blinked a few times, as if he was trying to wake up, and desperately looked around. Everyone was looking at them and waiting for something.

[link](https://vk.com/photo-167167704_457239622)

The boy wasn’t welcome there. So Frank gave in to some kind of an impulse and shook his head and put a bag on a nearby seat, banishing the boy. He noticed the satisfied smiles of the tall strong guys that were sitting somewhere in the front row. They even winked at him, and Frank unwillingly felt happy about doing everything ‘right’ and not making contact with an outsider.

“Poor, poor Pierrot, nobody wants you,” some blondie drawled, and everyone burst laughing.

“You know what,” the boy said with a quiet but clear voice; it was nice and even soothing, in Frank’s opinion. “Fuck you,” he proudly raised a hand, getting up his middle finger, demonstrating it to every person in the auditorium.

With those words, he just sat on the floor; he sat on the floor just like that, taking the textbooks out of his bag and really preparing for the lecture, sitting on the real goddamn floor. Frank was taken aback by it.

A few seconds later, a teacher has come into the classroom, and she definitely has noticed Pierrot among all of the students, but, surprisingly, she didn’t say anything to him. The lecture has started.


	3. What a fuck with this world? (alt title – What the fuck is wrong with this world?)

Frank could hardly lift his head up from the pillow to look at his alarm clock.

6:30 AM.

He wanted to know if anything in this world was ever fair. Sunday was his only day for the rest; he was planning to sleep until the noon, to sleep like he has never been sleeping, and that’s when he woke up at those damn six in the morning. Murmuring something into the pillow, he turned over, hugged the blanket with his legs and lied like this for fifteen minutes trying to fall asleep again, but the sleep was already gone. His day off. The only one.

Frank rolled on his back and threw a stupid stare onto the ceiling, putting a hand under the head. He planned, if not to sleep, well, at least to lie around in bed an hour or two, to listen to music or read, and then he could eat some cereal and start studying, but his mother ruined all of the plans when she rushed into his room as fast as a train. She was standing in the doorway, her hands on the hips, messy hair and her eyes frenzy, looking at one thing, then another, trying to find something to nitpick.

“The hell are you lying there? Don’t you have any homework? “ she shouted, as she walked in, picking clothes up from the backs of the chairs.

“But mom, it’s not even seven yet, what…” Frank babbled in confusion, looking at his mother with a surprised face.

“So what? You woke up? Start studying! Hike!” she yelled, throwing a pile of clothes right on Frank’s feet. “What a mess! Is it so hard to clean your room?”

“Yes, it fucking is! And is it so hard to stop barking at me just because you have argued with dad, and now you need to let off steam. And you’re taking it out on your son” – that was what Frank wanted to say, but he didn’t.

Instead, he cautiously lifted his head from the pillow and picked the clothes up.

“I will go and clean everything, and then I’ll start studying, mom,” - he said quietly.

“Well thank you a lot!” she said and flew out of the room, loudly slamming the door.

“I just want to stop existing right now.”

Frank rapidly threw all of the clothes on the floor and stood up, and when he was holding the doorknob, he understood that his cereal and milk is cancelled, because his parents were arguing in the kitchen again. He heard mom’s shrieks, dad’s bass and the sound of breaking the dishes on the expensive parquet. Cursing the whole world, Frank carefully opened the door of his room and quietly slipped into shower, being happy about his parents leaving him at least that small thing.

When the first drops have started drumming on the bottom of the shower cabin and the clothes has been thrown on the washing machine, Frank got under the warm water. He was already reaching for the bottle of shampoo, but suddenly, his hand got weak and just fell, bumping his thigh. He was alone.

He didn’t even notice how his knees flinched; he slowly went down, keeping his back stuck to the wall of the shower cabin and hiding his face between the knees. His parents were fighting down there, slinging at each other and forgetting about their son. There was a mess and a ton of homework in his room. His friends were dreaming sweet dreams in their beds in New Jersey, but he was surrounded by cold and unfriendly Atlanta. And he was absolutely alone.

There was no Pete, who always used to know when one needed a hug, a bottle of water or to be fed and a good horror movie. There was no Torie, who always used to kiss him on the cheek and mess up his hair. There was no ginger Patrick, just like Alan and Woody weren’t there, Chloe wasn’t there and the dusty skateboard playground wasn’t there. Nothing was there, except for Atlanta, cold walls of the shower cabin, and shaking shoulders, and tests, scores, good marks which everyone wanted him to get. He was alone.

When Frank stepped out of the cabin with a towel wrapped around his thighs, he noticed an unbelievable silence. His parents left, didn’t even leave a note (even though they have always notified him if they wanted to go somewhere), and now the way to the cereal was free. Feeling good about the fact that he wasn’t going to die near the science notebook, Frank poured milk into the bowl of cereal and made a strong coffee, taking it all to his room.

***

He finished his homework only when it was six in the evening; that was the time when his parents came back home. Frank didn’t know where they have been, but their mood was even worse than in the morning. Dad called mom ‘a real slut’ and hid in the living room, slamming the door. Mom was sobbing in the kitchen. Frank felt something painfully squeezing inside his chest. Were those people his family?

Frank felt like he was five years old. Standing in the middle of the hallway, listening to his mother whimper and his father muttering curses, he whispered:

“Mommy.. Daddy…”

He wanted to go and hug their knees, and beg them to make peace so much that he bit his fist and avert his eyes, barely standing on the ground.

He felt that he couldn’t stay there anymore. He took his jacket and put on the first boot, when mom went out of the kitchen, her eyes red. She started screaming again, blaming him for something, calling him ungrateful, and Frank only nodded for he couldn’t recognize his mother in that person. She made him take off the jacket and go to his room, sit and study again, and check every line, and then go to bed not later than eleven, because it’s school tomorrow.


	4. I'm Gerard

Getting ahead of his alarm clock, Frank woke up at 5:30 AM, and he wasn’t even trying to fall asleep again. He quickly took shower, ate something for breakfast, and out on some old jeans and warm sweatshirt. He grabbed the bag and rushed downstairs. He left when it was only six AM into October’s hug, two hours before the classes were starting. But all that was on his mind is leaving home.

The sky was hidden by the grey clouds. It dropped heavy drops on the ground; it was still dark. Frank didn’t even think about going back for an umbrella. He took a step and headed to the opposite from the school direction, scuffing with a quiet melody on the background. Ozzie sang about how the faith, time, and goals vanish, and Frank felt the same way.

Going through puddles, he didn’t notice how he accidentally went to the almost empty carriageway. Looking at his feet and mumbling the lyrics, distracted by music and thoughts, he didn’t hear a car signal. Only when something big and blue rushed before his face, he flinched back, falling on the cold wet asphalt. He was staring at the big blue pickup that drifted on the side of the road right into someone’s beautiful geranium flower bed. Scared driver quickly got out and ran to Frank, yelling and waving his hands.

“Don’t you know that there are, like, cars on the road?!” Frank heard the familiar voice. “Are you okay?”

“Pierrot?”

“I am asking if you are okay,” the guy repeated insistently, helping Frank to get on his feet and carefully studying him. “Are you hit?”

“I’m… no, no, no, it’s fine, yeah,” Frank was confused, as he ran fingers through his hair, still not very conscious. “Sorry. Hell, I don’t see anything with my music, I’m really sorry, I-”

“Nevermind,” Pierrot smiled, and Frank felt something warm in his soul for some reason. “Say thanks to the Buddy that it didn’t fall into pieces and saved your ass.”

“What? Who?”

“Buddy,” Pierrot nodded at the automobile, “my pickup. It’s old and rusty, but I love it more than anything in my entire life.

He smiled again. Frank fixed his gaze on Buddy, a hand-me-down old car that was still standing on the flowerbed.

“Umm, thanks, Buddy,” said Frank, and Pierrot’s face lighted up when he looked at his car with affection.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Walking.”

“At six AM?”

“Yeah.”

“In the rain?”

“Yeah.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Hundred yards away from home?”

“Well… Yes.”

Pierrot looked a bit surprised. But then he just shrugged and headed towards his pickup.

“Well, okay then,” he said.

Frank opened his mouth in surprise, looking at the most weird weirdo in this world.

“But if you want to,” he looked back, and Frank saw the sweet smile on his lips again, “if you want to, you can get in. I have a heater and some cookies, and outside it’s raining, and it’s an hour and a half before the classes start.”

He winked at Frank, and he unwillingly stepped forwards, settling for both heater and cookies, because an offer was really tempting.

Pierrot was terribly happy when he saw Frank going his way. He was happy as a child. He got in the car and took out the promised cookies while Frank was getting comfortable on the seat near him.

The cookies were unbelievably tasty; they were sandwich biscuits with a layer of cream. Frank was happy that he was sitting in a warm car and munching cookies, while the rain outside was slaying the puddles.

Pierrot drove his pickup away from the geranium flowerbed and hastily escaped from the crime scene. He parked on the side of the road next to some house. There were no people or cars on the streets, they were eating delicious cookies, listening how the rain drums on the glass and quiet jazzy melodies from the car radio.

[link](https://vk.com/photo-167167704_457239621)

Some minutes later, Frank fidgeted a little on the seat, and Pierrot turned to him.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Pierrot took another cookie.

“Pierrot?” Frank quietly called.

“Yes?” he responded.

“What is your name?”

“I’m Gerard.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, Gerard.”

He smiled.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t let you sit with me. I, like, really don’t know what’s gotten into me but…”

“But you just depend on other people’s opinion and all that, huh?” finished Pierrot.

Frank gave him another amazed look, but a few seconds later he shyly lowered his head.

“What,” said Perrot, “you don’t like when someone openly talks about your flaws?”

“Basically, yes, you know,” muttered Frank, looking at his feet. “Dang, you really are a turd!” he smiled and pushed his side. “Sorry.”

“It’s nothing,” Gerard smiled in response. “I am used to it.”

Just like that, a person said that he was used to being treated bad.

“You are used to it?” gasped Frank.

“No. I lied. You can’t get used to this kind of stuff,” said Pierrot, looking way too serious for Pierrot.

“Why do they treat you like that?”

Frank expected Gerard to sigh, refuse to answer, mumble, start making up excuses. He expected anything, but Gerard just shrugged again and calmly answered instead.

“I don’t know. They never liked me. I don’t know why.”

“But there should be a reason.”

“Maybe there is, but I don’t know it.”

Frank got silent. He was looking at Pierrot; being so fragile, he just showed his middle finger to everyone. He felt happy like a kid when Frank got into his car. He sat right on the floor when no one let him take a seat. He was weird, even creepy a little bit; there was no one in the world like him.

Frank caught himself lost in thoughts and remembered who he was only when Gerard started the engine.

“We got to go, the classes are starting soon,” he said.

“Fine,” said Frank, being a little upset; he enjoyed sitting in the warm car and listening to quiet jazz.

They made it to school in five minutes and split right away. But at science, when two groups were gathered in one big auditorium again, Gerard was sitting with Frank. Everyone was staring in an unpleasant way, and the Beautiful Girl scoffed and stopped looking at Frank at all.

But no one said anything, and Frank was quite okay with that; besides, Gerard was a good weirdo after all. And Frank even liked this strange Monday. If only he had known that at home there was his father with bloody nose, and his mother with another set of scenes, he would never go home. But he didn’t know.


	5. Who are not with us are below us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tr. note: this is the author’s attempt to translate russian bandit expression with the meaning of ‘anyone who is not our friend is our enemy’.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Haven’t forgotten anything?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“The notebooks?”

“Yes.”

“How can you talk to your mother like that?”

“Mom, what’s…”

“You could make a merrier face for me! As if I’m doing the voices here for nothing! You know how important your high scores are!”

“I know…”

“I and your father have put so much effort and money in you!”

“Yes, you have…”

“So what are you waiting for?”

“I’m already going… Bye, mommy…”

The door has loudly shut right before Frank’s face, and he hasn’t even stepped over the doorsill. Today his father left early in the morning, before all the alarm clocks, so mom has been left without anyone to fight with, or to yell at, or to throw the dishes at. So she went to Frank. She woke him up fifteen minutes earlier and made him get up, and then she was following on his heels everywhere, constantly reproaching him and not letting him take a breath of air. And when she thought he was spending too much time at shower, she started furiously banging at the door, screaming about him being irresponsible and not thinking about his schedule or school at all.

Frank swallowed the lump in his throat. He hated this feeling. The guilt that he was feeling because of the unreasonable hate towards the person he loved. He knew that it was his mommy, the one that has raised him and the one that has given him everything that he had now. He really knew it, but she was acting like a bitch, so he was angry and resentful; and that’s why he felt ashamed and guilty. He tried his best not to hate her. But she didn’t even say the corny ‘bye’ when he left. If he was a girl, he’d already been sobbing. But he wasn’t, so he just took out his board and dashed to school, getting morally prepared for the science class.

As soon as Frank put his textbook on the desk, the bell has rung. He felt someone touching his shoulder and heard their soft voice. Turning around, he saw Gerard; he was shyly staring at his feet with his messy hair covering his face.

“Hello, Gee,” said Frank, taking a pen out of the bag.

“Frank?” quietly said Gerard.

“Yeah?”

“Can I sit with you today too?”

Frank looked at him and nodded.

“Yes, you can, no problem.”

“Thank you,” said Gerard, sounding even quieter, as he sat next to Frank. “Thank you a lot.”

“That’s nothing,” Frank was feeling some kind of embarrassment, “I’m just lending you a seat.”

“Yes, but no one ever does that.”

When the bell rang, kids let out a sigh of relief and started talking, hastily leaving the space.

“You really take notes of everything the teachers say,” said Gerard, getting up and grabbing his bag.

“I do,” Frank responded, “I told you that I need high scores and all that.”

“Yeah, right, I know.”

Gerard smiled; it was a bit weird, too warm; that’s how close friends smile to you. Frank couldn’t help but smile back, even though he was a bit confused. The kid was creepy, and Frank couldn’t even understand why.

“See you in P.E.?”

“Yes. See you.”

And Gerard rushed outside of the auditorium, leaving Frank alone with his strange thoughts and physics textbook. Frank was standing there, waiting for the crowd to leave and trying to remember the location of the next classroom. It was on the second floor, so Frank opened the textbook and slowly wandered towards that classroom.

When he was almost near the stairs, he felt someone’s shoulder accidentally pushing him, but when he looked up, he understood that it wasn’t an accident. There were his new classmates; three tall big guys in letterman jackets. Each one was at least a foot taller than Frank, and the most terrifying was that he couldn’t tell whether they were really smiling or just exposing their teeth like stray dogs.

“Sorry, Frankie, I didn’t notice you,” said the one with blond hair, continuing smirking.

“Well, of course, you didn’t,” that’s what Frank wanted to say. What he really said was…

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Studying physics, huh?” said the second guy.

“Yes,” warily said Frank, lifting the textbook higher and demonstrating it to the guys.

“Cool, you’re doing well,” the blond one addressed him once again. “Listen, aren’t you a friend of Pierrot?”

Frank started sweating like crazy. So that’s the crazy puppet’s fault? Well of course he should’ve expected trouble. He shouldn’t have allowed him to sit near him. He shouldn’t have.

“Well, I’m, no, I’m not, he just sat with me, that’s it,” Frank mumbled, making the third guy snicker.

“It’s just, you know,” the second one continued, scratching the back of his head, “you probably have already noticed that no one likes him here.”

“Yup, I have, I have.”

“And whoever refuses our friendship becomes our enemy, Frankie.”

Frank was staring at them, absolutely shocked and trying to hide his shaking knees. Was it a hidden threat? If so, he had understood it completely.

“No problem, guys,” he could barely talk, squeezing the textbook in his hands.

The guys’ smirks had become even wider; they clearly were happy about the fact that they managed to suppress one more student.

“You are a great man, Frankie,” said the third guy, who kept silent all that time, and then he tapped Frank on the shoulder. “See ya in science.”

“Yeah, sure…”

They winked at him, and then they were gone. Frank let out a relieved sigh. He was glad that he managed to avoid being beaten and humiliated in front of the whole school.

Four lessons have passed quickly; at least Frank felt this way. Maybe he was working too hard. But here he was, dressed in his gym clothes, standing in a huge gym and realizing that he was going to play basketball. A real basketball with those giant lads in front of the pretty girls, sitting around on the bench, ready to watch the game. Two groups of students were going to play against each other, and Frank had already pictured in his head how that big guy would mistake him for a ball and throw him into a basket, so he’d hang there forever.

Lost in thought, he heard the coach whistle to start the game. The boys immediately started running, guarding, and throwing passes, and Frank was just standing there, confused; he was praying for staying unnoticed so no one would make him join the game. He heard the whistle one more time; the coach waved to their team and then, Frank didn’t understand why, he pointed at the opponents’ basket. Frank’s teammate grabbed the ball and went outside the court. When the coach had whistled, the teammate threw the ball into the crowd to some guy, who dribbled to their opponents’ basket.

In all the chaos of what was going on, Frank noticed one more person, who probably hated it there too. Pierrot was standing in the corner trying his best to become invisible, but he’s been spotted anyway; a guy ‘accidentally’ pushed him, and he fell on the floor. And Frank could swear that it was on purpose, but he didn’t say anything.

While Frank was standing and trying to figure out what on earth it was, he saw a ball flying to him, so he automatically put his hands out and, only God knows why he caught it. A whole rowdy bunch of strong fellas rushed towards him, so he freaked out and threw the ball somewhere to the side, taking it out of the game. But everyone was so involved with the game they didn’t even notice that mistake, thanks to heaven.

Forty-five minutes later, this entire nightmare has been ended, and Frank was changing his clothes in the guys’ locker room, coming to a sweet realization that was it for that day.

Boys were chattering, discussing the game and the girls in very short shorts. Someone asked to lend him a deodorant; someone was coming out of the shower. Two guys were giving each other a noogie, loudly laughing and getting on the way of the boy who was trying to put on his pants. And everything became quiet when Pierrot entered the room; he lowered his head, with his hair as messy as it has always been.

“Look who’s here,” someone’s voice chimed. “Pierrot, such a game, huh?”

Everyone burst in laughter. Pierrot sharply raised his head, making eye contact with the one who said that, staring at him with some kind of dare or desperation; it was difficult to understand.

Someone pushed him in the shoulder, and fragile Pierrot almost fell to the tiled floor. The locker room filled with laughter once again.

“He looks like a pussy!”

That was said by one of the guys who threatened Frank today. Pierrot turned to the guy and replied very softly but very provocatively:

“If my girlfriend hadn’t had sex with me, I’d have seen pussies everywhere, too.”

The guy’s face instantly turned red from anger. He opened and closed his mouth a few times; apparently, Pierrot left him speechless. And Frank was just standing there; he couldn’t believe that slim puppet had the guts to say something like that to the guy who was at least three times bigger than him. Moreover, there was a whole crowd of boys. Only three of them scared the shit out of Frank today, but Pierrot…

“You…” said the guy with teeth grit. “You are pussy. And it’s a men locker room, as you see. You need another one. For girls. Grab him, boys.”

Three boys lift Pierrot by his hands and feet, taking him out in the hall. Everyone came out of the locker room, following them; everyone except for Frank, who was still standing there and processing everything in his mind. The Blondie Guy was there too. He looked at Frank as if he was waiting for something.

“So, Frankie,” he said, snarling. “You with us or…”

“I’m with you.”

“Brilliant,” his smile grew wider. “Then let’s go. It’s gonna be a lot of fun.”

Frank came out in the hall without even realizing what he has just said and what he was going to do then. He saw the boys, who rapidly opened the door to the girls’ locker room, threw Pierrot there, and immediately blocked the door with their massive bodies, not letting anyone leave. And Frank was still standing there, looking at the crowd of laughing boys, listening to the shrieking girls and wondering – how comes he is involved in all this?

“Just dependent on other people’s opinion and all that.”


	6. I do not know how to breathe underwater

“I hate you, you, whore!”

“Fuck you, you asshole! You wanna know why I have found a lover? Do you want to know?!”

Mother was silent for a few seconds, and then she spoke, warily and almost softly.

“Because he is much better than you in bed, you old impotent.”

There was a sound of a slap; Frank almost flew out of the door, trying his best to forget what he had heard.

He made it to school in seven minutes, nearly breaking his neck in the corners to avoid the thoughts about his parents’ sexual life, about mom’s lover, and about dad hitting her. His dad, a man of high moral conviction, always so discreet and righteous, hit his wife, the apple of his eye.

Frank felt sick. He wanted to run to the bathroom and puke in the toilet bowl, to spit his liver and lungs out there too, and then wash his face with cold water. Then he would have felt better. But the bell has rung, and he headed to the history class.

As he was listening to the teacher’s telling about the Civil War in the most boring way, Frank wanted to die right away; he wanted to lay his head on the copybook and then never open his eyes again. The head was about to explode, there was a piercing pain in the temples, and the stomach was growling like a bear, either asking for food or trying to throw up everything that was inside. But Frank was working diligently, taking notes after the history teacher, solving equations, drawing graphs; doing anything else in other classes. Four hours, five hours, six, and then exam preparations. Then going home to the yelling, arguments, a pile of homework, annoying mom, angry dad behind the closed door…

Frank just wanted to talk to his father, but he always was closing the door to avoid conversations.

“Frank?”

Frank turned back and saw Pierrot, who was standing right behind him, wearing the same huge sweater and with his messy hair.

“What?” said Frank in a bit rude manner.

“Sorry,” quietly said Gerard, looking at his feet. “You are probably fed up with me, but can I sit with you today, too?” he looked at Frank with hope. “Nobody lets me, and the floor is rather cold and uncomfortable…”

Frank glanced at the clock. It was the sixth lesson already? Science? He couldn’t remember what he was doing the whole day, but his head was going to crack open and fall into two parts. Pierrot was there again, crumpling the sleeve of his sweater. It looked like he saw a friend in Frank.

“Listen, Gerard…”

He looked at him. So pale, odd and cornered, with his round eyes, and oh god, what’s wrong with his hair? Had he heard about such thing as a comb?

“You see, it’s like… uhh… it’s just…” Frank started mumbling, avoiding eye contact.

“I see,” Pierrot cut him off. “Anyone would’ve been scared of them, right?”

“Scared? Wh..”

“Whatever, I’ll just sit on the floor.”

With those words, he quickly turned and went to the front of the auditorium, sitting on the cold linoleum right behind the front desks. Someone from the back row threw a paper ball covered in saliva at him, and it bumped right at his cheek. Everyone laughed.

Frank let out a heavy sigh, covering his face with hands. Anyone could’ve been scared of those guys, right? They’re so big and strong, they hurt and humiliate. Who wouldn’t have been scared? Pierrot wouldn’t have.

Yes, he was scared. He was scared to be laughed at, like Pierrot was, covered in spit and left by everyone around. He had already had a lot of problems: parents, scores; becoming an outcast is school was the last thing he wanted.

Groaning, Frank collapsed on the desk, soothing himself: he was just ten hours away from his bed, and a warm blanket, and not thinking about all that shit that was going on.


	7. I tried to be perfect

Frank woke up earlier than he had to because he had been tortured by the parents’ screams downstairs, wild headache, and his own shame. Mom was yelling at dad to go away; the pain was filling his head with lead so he couldn’t lift it from the pillow; the shame was saying he did an awful thing to Pierrot. Frank himself wanted to crawl into the shower and stay there for the whole day.

Ten minutes later the alarm clock started buzzing, almost making Frank’s head explode. Frank turned it off; he could barely get up and handle the dizziness. Tapping his own forehead, he came to the realization, that, firstly, he got cold, and, secondly, he absolutely should’ve avoided walking on rain. He had been standing like that for a few minutes, thinking whether it was a good idea to tell mom and dad he couldn’t go to school. But this question had been answered the second his mother flew into the room. Her hair was messy and her eyes were wild.

“What are you waiting for? Don’t you have to go to school? The alarm clock has rung five minutes ago!” she screamed, hurling a towel to the corner.

“Look at you! In between your dates you finally have time to think about your son!” said dad with a really angry voice downstairs.

Mom’s face immediately turned pale, but instead of coming to father and creating a new drama, she looked at Frank with such rage, as if he had been the cause of all their problems.

“Why the fuck are you staring at me? You are angry because dad is right and you can’t argue with that, making me a whipping boy! And it’s not my fault! It’s your fault!” Frank wanted to say, but he didn’t.

“Mom,” he mumbled softly, “I don’t feel so good, I’m probably ill…Can I stay at home?”

“Take a pill and go to school!” she shouted and left the room, slapping the door so hard that the floor had been sprinkled with tiny crumbles of paint.

Frank stood there, trying to suppress an unbearable flow of hatred and bitterness inside of him. She couldn’t say that, she absolutely couldn’t; father couldn’t let her do that, he absolutely couldn’t; Frank couldn’t resist – absolutely couldn’t.

Quickly glancing at the clock, he understood that he was catastrophically late. Rushing around the rooms, trying to become as invisible as he could and ignoring the headache, he was ready in thirty minutes. At eight he was already sitting in the math class. But he couldn’t focus on formulas and equations because of throbbing temples and thoughts about Pierrot.

Because Frank was never that type of a guy. He never liked it when a group of people bullied one person; he hated bullying in general. He never wanted to defend anyone, but he also never was a bully. And now he was involved in the cycle of bullying and picking on a poor boy just to avoid being picked on. Good job, now he felt guilty and also worthless. Thinking that way, Frank was sure about going and apologizing to Pierrot. Not becoming friends; he just wanted to apologize.

And he had an opportunity three hours later. During the break, while he was going to another auditorium, he saw a shaggy-haired boy in the crowd, so he hurried to catch Pierrot. But the moment he got through a bunch of students and grabbed Pierrot by his sleeve, two soccer players, his new classmates, Jack and Roy, had sprung right in front of him.

When he saw them, Frank immediately pulled his hand away and started staring at those guys, still scared. The guys were staring at Pierrot. The hall was filled with deafening voices; someone was yelling, and someone was laughing, but even so Frank could hear what exactly Jack was saying.

“Hey freak, have you written the essay for the literature class? You had to finish it two days ago.”

“So?” said Pierrot, trying to sound mean and awkwardly squeezing his fists.

“So give it to us, you idiot,” said Roy and grabbed Pierrot by the hands so he couldn’t escape, and Jack managed to put his copybook out of the bag.

Frank was standing there, a yard away, and he really wanted to help Pierrot, but he didn’t know how. Jack and Roy got what they wanted and just pushed Pierrot away, kicking him in the back at last. They were already going to go and copy the essay, but they noticed Frank and turned back with wide grins.

“Fra-a-anky,” drawled Jack, putting his arm around Frank’s shoulder.

“Guys,” said Frank, sounding somewhat uncertain, and hunched up a little under Jack’s arm.

“Why are you here?” asked Roy, pushing someone from the crowd with his shoulder and angrily looking back. “Waiting for someone?”

“Me? No… no, I just got lost again,” blatantly lied Frank, cursing himself for that right away.

He just couldn’t tell them that actually he was there to talk to Pierrot and even apologize to him.

“Dude, you really need a map,” chortled Jack in response. “Listen, me and the guys are going to chill today after school. There is a pizza place not far from here, we always hang out there. Wanna go with us?”

“Yeah, right, Franky, come with us!” echoed Roy.

‘I can’t. I have loads of homework, my parents would be enraged if I come home late and generally, I don’t even like you, guys’.

“Yeah, sure, I’d love to,” he said. 

“Great!”

“We gather downstairs when the classes end.”

They waved at him and got lost in the crowd of students, and Frank was left alone. He was wondering where was he supposed to find Pierrot now, hating himself and dying from the terrible headache.

Four slow and boring lessons later, Frank was standing by the school porch in the crowd of boys and staring at them. Icke Corhane, the guy with an unbelievable amount of hairspray on his head, was wearing a leather jacket. He was telling something to Bill Delaney, captain of the school soccer team. Those guys’ parents were terribly rich. Frank knew that because he saw how they were coming to school by pricey cars. Often, just for fun, they used to drive to the parking lot for bicycles and run the bicycles over and threw them all over the place, so the owners would run around the schoolyard in search of their vehicles.

Ben, Lewis, and Deni, the trio that Frank met in the hallway, were loudly laughing at something, peeking at a phone screen; Duke Odley and Nickolas Little were smoking next to them. They were saying very little, but they bullied a lot. The rest of the guys - Pierce, Right, Scott, Hugh, Earl, Tim - were standing in a circle and discussing girls, soccer and online games. Some of them were smoking, and Frank was standing there too, and he was laughing and smoking too, and he couldn’t understand what he was doing there.

A few minutes later, Spenser and Tom came out of the door, and the whole gang headed to the nearby pizza place named “Slicerie”. They had to put three tables together and bring a few chairs to sit together; and they ordered five big pizzas and a lot of coke so no one was left hungry. Frank wasn’t saying much; he was just eating and listening, and pretending that he liked it there.

Although, he didn’t. The boys were talking about the new laboratory technician’s boobs, and Frank thought about how angry mom would be and how he still hadn’t apologized to Pierrot.

“Listen, she is single, I’m telling you.”

“And then she just went away and shut the door, and I was sitting there with a boner in my pants!”

“I want more pizza, what about you?”

“I don’t know, the coach says I have to work out more.”

“No way, man!”

[link](https://vk.com/photo-167167704_457239624)

Frank was blankly looking around, catching only parts of different conversations and the ringing of the bell at the door. People were coming and leaving, the voices were changing; there was a noise of the dishes from the kitchen. Thirty minutes later, Frank decided he had to go. When he said goodbye and shook hands with everyone, he started his way home, realizing that he was too tired for homework now.

Mom met him with a shriek; dad met him with a closed door. Listening to his mother’s nagging, Frank got undressed and despite having no appetite, he ate the dinner. Then he hid in the room. Sighing, he started doing the homework anyway, but he was feeling ill and exhausted, so half an hour later he was peacefully resting on his biology copybook.


End file.
